


Sanctuary

by whimsicott



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicott/pseuds/whimsicott
Summary: Modern day AU. Percival wonders if there is a worse way to welcome the new year than this; stuck in an empty izakaya with Vane.





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerrin/gifts).



This isn’t at all how Percival imagined he would spend the last evening of the year, and it’s  _ far  _ from anything he’s ever wanted. No, in fact, it is the kind of New Year’s Eve he might wish only on his very worst enemy.

Even if his worst enemy right now is Lancelot, who had landed him in this situation to begin with. 

As much as he hates to admit it, the small  _ izakaya _ is a familiar sight by now. The smoky smell that had seeped into its walls, decorated with gaudy posters of 90s J-pop memorabilia posters and retro beer ads. The way the bell sound when someone new enter the establishment. The nameless drunk salaryman who’s somehow always falling asleep on one of the table seats with a large glass of beer.

The counter where he sat opposite  _ him _ .  _ Him _ , in his white T-shirt and dark blue apron.

“Looks like they won’t be able to make it,” Vane says with an apologetic smile. 

“Haven’t you seen the weather report from an hour ago?” Percival rolls his eyes. “It was obvious then they weren’t going to make it.”

It was Lancelot’s idea to spend New Year’s Eve in Vane’s  _ izakaya _ , even though this is exactly where they spend almost every evening at anyway. But Lancelot reasoned that Vane has to work, and he shouldn’t have to go through it alone. 

Lancelot reasoned, even though he’s not here right now.

Alright, he supposes it isn’t exactly Lancelot’s fault that a freak snowstorm blew through the whole city and rendered them all stuck where they were. Lancelot had seemed apologetic on their LINE chat, spamming the chat with cutesy stickers that made Percival almost smash his phone to bits.

He looks back to the man who stands across the counter from him.

Tonight, the  _ izakaya  _ is quiet. Beside the usual drunk man passed out at his seat, there is no other guests, all of them having gone home early at the slightest report of the snow storm coming through.

But Percival had stayed, for reasons he himself doesn’t understand.

Unlike Lancelot, it’s not as if he cares all that deeply whether or not Vane is working his shifts alone. He and Vane are at best friendly acquaintances, and friendly is a term one would have to use liberally for them. Vane is Lancelot’s best friend. And he — he is Lancelot’s ex-coworker and mortal enemy right now. 

“You want another drink?” Vane offers.

“No, why would I?” Percival frowns in return. Perhaps it’s on purpose that he fills his voice with the most offense he could fill in a sentence, perhaps it’s not, but that’s exactly how it sounds as words spill out from his lips. “I’m not going to spend New Year’s Eve drunk on cheap beer served by a mongrel.”

“Hey, our beer is good,” Vane pipes back. “Even if they are cheap.”

“So you’re not denying it,” Percival scoffs.

Vane studies him quietly, those blue eyes staring straight at him.

“What?” Percival says, swatting the air in front of him like it would distract Vane from looking at him.

“I was just thinking,” Vane starts.

“A rarity for you.”

“Hey!”

Vane clears his throat. 

“Look, I was just thinking — you’re not denying it tastes good either.”

He says the statement so  _ simply _ , with a wide grin on his face that this whole idea is something he’s proud of. 

Something about it makes Percival want to see everything burn.

Instead, he slams his glass against the counter.

“Fill it up,” he grumbles, his voice muffled as he speaks into his other hand.

Vane laughs. 

“Alrighty, coming right up.”

Quietly glancing at the man across the counter from him, humming as he works the tap, Percival wonders if there’s a worse way to spend the last day of the year.

Closing his eyes, taking in the smoky scent of the  _ izakaya _ , the smell of cheap beer, the idea of  _ him,  _ Percival suppose there has to be.


End file.
